


Take A Trip To My Yard

by bubblegumkitsch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, ot5 (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:22:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblegumkitsch/pseuds/bubblegumkitsch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Essentially a booty call fic with some sappy stuff thrown in because I can't help myself. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrCevo6jPBs">x</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Trip To My Yard

Zayn has always been pretty private. For one, because it helps keep up that air of mysterious danger he’s somehow (miraculously) managed to maintain over the past couple of years. But also because there are some parts of himself he doesn’t ever want to share with the outside world. Parts of him that even those he’s close to might not know about. 

That’s why, when faced with his first week off in so long he can’t remember at this point, instead of reaching for his phone or heading out the front door for some club half-hidden behind the collar of his leather jacket, Zayn sits. He just sits. For hours and hours on his couch, watching the birds outside the window, or staring dazedly at the gray brick wall across the alley, which had seemed like a good idea when he bought the place, privacy and all, but now makes him feel like he’s trapped in a cement box. 

Afternoon turns to evening and despite the pangs of hunger starting to rise in his stomach, Zayn can’t bring himself to move off the couch. His phone rings but the familiar ‘Marimba’ tone that can only mean management or a casual acquaintance does nothing to make him rise out of his stupor. 

Zayn’s not sure if he’s awake or asleep when he hears the first few notes of ‘Hell Ya Fucking Right’ streaming from his phone. “Liam!”

“Zayn! What’s up, man? How’s the time off?”

“Pretty chill,” Zayn glances around his empty apartment. “Trying to keep busy.”

Liam hums on the other end of the line. “Well, don’t try too hard. Who knows when we’ll have this much time off again?”

“Ha, true. What are you up to?”

“You want the real answer? Nothing. I think I’ve forgotten how to function normally without a thousand things going on at once. I was actually wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie or something?”

“Sure. Give me like twenty minutes, I’ll be right over.”

“Great,” Zayn can hear Liam grinning through the phone.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, see you soon, then!”

“Ok.”

“Alright.”

“Bye.”

“See ya!”

Their conversation ends the way most of their phone conversations do, neither of them ready to hang up even with the promise that they’ll see each other in twenty minutes. They end up laughing themselves off the line, Liam’s heart jumping with surprise when he actually hears the click of Zayn’s disconnect. 

Zayn throws on a hoodie and sprays himself with the first cologne he finds on his bathroom counter. Perhaps he uses one spritz too many, but a little Gucci never hurt a stale sweatshirt. Zayn has the taxi pull up in the back of the building in an attempt at avoiding the dozens of people surely camped out in front, a thankfully successful one. Zayn takes in the city lights as the cab weaves in and out of traffic. It’s a short ride but his knees still bounce up and down impatiently. 

When Zayn arrives, he barely has to knock once before Liam’s door swings open. His apartment smells like laundry and Chinese takeaway. “I got some food in case you were hungry.”

“Actually, I’m starving.” Zayn’s stomach grumbles loudly at the scent. 

Liam smiles brightly and Zayn lets Liam lead him towards the kitchen. Half unpacked boxes line the hallway, but all in all, Liam’s new place is still fairly neat. It’s not entirely furnished yet, but that’s understandable given the amount of time they actually spend in their own apartments. 

They eat straight out of the boxes, cross-legged on the couch, Liam attempting to maneuver chopsticks for a while but eventually giving up and using a fork and knife. 

Liam pops in a movie, some stupid old comedy with Chris Rock he picked up off the clearance rack based on the bright orange sticker still marking the corner of the box. 

It’s all pretty standard business as far as Zayn and Liam go. But there’s something different about being in Liam’s apartment. Being outside the confines of the tour bus or a hotel room. It feels normal. As normal as they could feel with thousands of people tracking their every move. Zayn settles easily into the folds of Liam’s couch, sort of watching whatever the movie is, mostly watching Liam. The way Liam’s eyes crinkle up when he laughs, the way his arm feels slung around the back of Zayn’s neck, forever his favorite pillow. It all just feels right. It’s a wonder Zayn made it this long on his own. Zayn’s so comfortable like this with Liam, he doesn’t even notice when he drifts off to sleep, his beer still wedged in between his knees.

When he wakes up, he sees he’s been repositioned, head snuggled into Liam’s lap. The   
movie has long since ended, but Zayn can hear the latest Robin Thicke tune playing somewhere in the background. He grins up at Liam, nuzzling into his hand where it cards through his hair. 

“It’s nice seeing you like this,” Liam whispers, despite the fact that they’re the only two around, “You seem more...”

“Hmm?” Zayn murmurs when Liam trails off.

When Liam looks back down at Zayn, his eyes have changed, the normal brown much darker now, flooded with desire but lacking the normal urgency he gets when they’re like this. He reaches down his hand and runs his thumb over Zayn’s cheekbone. The tips of his fingers are soft but strong as they trace softly up then down over the stubble on Zayn’s jawline. Each movement is electric but painfully slow. Liam is taking his time and Zayn could scream with impatience but there’s a silent promise in his eyes that makes Zayn stay still because it’s what Liam wants. Because vulnerable and cradled in Liam’s lap like this, Zayn will do whatever he wants. 

Liam nudges Zayn’s head up with the shuffling of his knees. Their lips meet in a frenzy. Zayn sits up fully so he can grab Liam’s face in his hands. When he does, Liam pulls away slowly, pulling Zayn’s lower lip out between his teeth as he does, making Zayn whimper from the distance. It’s only for a moment and when their lips meet again, Zayn can see what Liam is up to. Each movement is excruciatingly slow. 

Zayn opens his mouth a little further to let Liam’s tongue in, which Liam accepts, but only for a moment. He licks briefly inside then decides better of it and kisses a line slowly from Zayn’s lips to his ear. “More beautiful.” Liam’s breath is hot, but it sends shivers down Zayn’s spine. “If that’s possible.” Liam nips at Zayn’s earlobe then wastes no time moving down an inch to mark his neck. 

Zayn groans as Liam moves down, finally landing on his collar bone. The scratchiness of Liams own stubble feels like fire moving across Zayn’s chest as he bites small marks into his skin. 

Liam runs a hand up under Zayn’s sweatshirt, tracing lines smoothly up the slim cut of his stomach muscles. Zayn hisses at the cold touch for a moment, but soon Liam’s got him worked up in such a fever he can’t help but shuck off his hoodie, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind the couch. 

Zayn takes the opportunity to straddle himself on top of Liam, fingers tugging insistently at his t-shirt until he’s successfully removed that as well. Zayn dives back into Liam’s neck, making his own marks there as he grinds down as slowly as he can, giving Liam a taste of his own medicine. “Fuck,” Liam groans, throwing his head back, eyes squinting shut. He can’t help it as his hips rut up to meet Zayn’s. The friction it creates makes Zayn shudder and sit up, rocking back on his heels. 

“No, wait - I don’t want to come like this,” he pants, “not when I can have you any way I want you.” It’s difficult to control himself, but Zayn has to admit it’s nice like this. Being able to take his time and go slow. Not having to worry about noise or time or working within the confines of a less than ideal space. Zayn wants to take advantage of the opportunity while he’s got the chance. 

“How do you want me, then?” Liam breathes in between ghosting soft kisses up and down Zayn’s chest. Zayn nods towards the door he assumes is Liam’s bedroom. Liam smiles and grabs Zayn’s ass quickly, forcing Zayn to hook his legs around his torso while he carries him to the room. While he’s carrying Zayn, he makes it seem like Zayn weighs nothing, but when Liam throws him down on the bed, Zayn hears his grunt from the exertion. Zayn doesn’t let on though. Liam wants Zayn to see how strong he is, but Zayn doesn’t need to be carried by him to know that. He can see it in Liam’s every movement.

Zayn waits expectantly as Liam removes his jeans, enjoying the view of the scrunching of his muscles as he pushes them to the floor in a rush. He hurriedly makes his way to the bed, pushing Zayn back further into it until they reach the head board, Liam taking up Zayn’s whole view, a face with a mischievous grin replacing the white ceiling above him.

They kiss hungrily and Liam rolls his hips down onto Zayn, driving him crazy with each point of contact. After they’ve thoroughly worked each other into a frenzy, Liam’s boxers tented out high and Zayn’s own erection still pressed hard against his stomach through his pants, Liam reaches down to tug off Zayn’s jeans roughly. 

Zayn sits up on his elbows and watches as Liam moves back towards him, hands running up and down his sides, sending shocks to the pit of Zayn’s stomach each time he moves past another rib. Then to another, then to the bony ‘V’ of his pelvis. Then he’s got his thumbs pressing hard into Zayn’s hips, holding him down as he licks his lips and looks up him. 

Zayn can feel everything. The erratic breath escaping from Liam’s nose as he begins to swallow Zayn’s cock. The sweaty palms of his hands searching for some part of Zayn to latch onto, finally settling on his nipple which he runs circles around as he continues to move up and down on Zayn’s dick.

Liam takes more of Zayn with each bob of his head and Zayn can barely stand to look down at him like this, his lips impossibly plump and pink, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Zayn has to fight the urge to buck up into his mouth but he’s rewarded when Liam takes him all the way down, nearly gagging but looking up happily at Zayn as his spit drips down onto his cock. Liam tugs at Zayn’s dick a few times, hand wet with a mixture of his saliva and the precome leaking out the head of Zayn’s cock. 

“Come on, I’m ready,” Zayn pants into Liam's neck as he leans up to kiss him again and again between strokes. 

“Okay, lemme just - ” Liam pauses, sitting up momentarily and looking around his room. “Shit, give a minute.” He rushes off the bed and out into the living room, leaving Zayn lying on the bed, his cock hard and pulsing against his stomach. He can hear Liam shuffling through boxes for what seems like hours, though he knows it’s only minutes. It’s mindboggling to Zayn that Liam wouldn’t have at least unpacked his condoms and lube, but that’s Liam for you.

Zayn waits patiently for Liam, alone now in his bedroom. The room is fairly empty except for a bedside table and a chest of drawers against the opposite wall. No art decorates the room save for one framed photograph on top of the wardrobe. Zayn squints in the dim light to see what it is and smiles when he’s finally able to make it out. He doesn’t recognize it for a moment because it’s blurry and dark but after awhile he realizes it’s one someone must have taken while they were all at Harry’s stepdad’s bungalow. The boys are sprawled out over the couch. Harry’s head is nestled contentedly in Louis’ lap. Niall doubled over on the arm of the couch laughing, arm draped behind Louis. Liam is smushed into the corner of the couch with Zayn on the floor leaning his back against his legs. They’d only known each other for a short time when the photo was taken but they all look so comfortable with each other already. They’d been an instant family. Come to think of it, since then, in the midst of all the craziness of touring and travel and screaming girls, that feeling of family is the one of the few things he could count on any more. 

Head swimming with fuzzy happy memories, Zayn doesn't notice when Liam enters the room again, now stark naked holding a travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom. Zayn laughs at the sight of him. There’s something so amazing how Liam can go from goofy to sexy and back again in just a couple of seconds. 

“What?” Liam asks, tossing the bottle on the bed from the doorway, and following right after. Crawling slowly back over to Zayn till he’s hovering over him, stroking himself lazily along the way to get back to where they left off. 

“Nothing,” Zayn grins, “just happy to be home” 

Zayn melts into the bed as Liam greets him with a messy, smiling kiss. Liam sits back on his heels and flicks the cap open on the small bottle, coating a finger with lube carefully. 

Liam leans down again, looking at Zayn intently before pressing the tip of his finger inside Zayn. 

It’s been awhile, but Zayn relaxes into the feeling as Liam slides his finger further in, growing more confident with the movement as he hears Zayn huffing with pleasure above him. Liam ventures to add a second finger, then three, turning Zayn into blubbering mess. 

Zayn digs his fingers into Liam’s back and Liam knows without him saying he’s ready. He pulls his fingers out and slicks his cock up with lube before staring back down at Zayn.

Liam grabs Zayn’s leg and hooks it over his shoulder before pushing in slowly. Zayn nods frantically in encouragement and Liam thrusts into him with more resolve. “God, it’s so fucking good, Liam,” Zayn whimpers as he fucks him down into the soft white comforter atop the bed.

“‘M so close,” Liam pants, fucking in harder and faster until he feels Zayn stiffen slightly underneath him.

“Wait,” He slides back as Liam pulls out of him, a questioning but optimistic look spreading across his face. “I want to ride you.”

Zayn sits up and in a flash rolls on top of Liam, pushing his shoulders down onto the pillows without protest. 

Liam gazes up at Zayn. The tattoos on his chest stand out against his skin glowing in the faint moonlight coming in from the window. “Just let me take care of you,” Zayn breathes down into the crook of Liam’s neck, steadying himself onto his cock. He teases the tip for a moment, letting it push up in between his cheeks before finally sliding down slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully squeezing around Liam’s cock.

Zayn scrapes his fingers across Liam’s chest, grinning at the pleased hiss he makes. He ticks his hips forward only slightly at first, enjoying the slow build up and the way it turns Liam, usually so strong and firm, pliant beneath him. But as he rolls his hips into Liam, swirling rhythmically in increasingly sloppy circles, he can’t hold back. He grabs ahold of Liam’s shoulders, clutching him hard enough that it will surely leave marks in the morning, pulls himself off Liam. He hesitates for a moment, drinking in the thickness in the air, sweaty and heavy with want, before slamming back down onto Liam. The force is enough to make Zayn come in a hot burst over Liam’s stomach. He crumples on top of him and goes soft as Liam hooks his arms up through Zayn’s, hands grasping at Zayn’s shoulders as he tilts his hips and bucks up into him. A few thrusts later and Liam pulls out, stroking himself only twice before he shoots over the dimples on the small of Zayn’s back. 

Liam schooches out from under Zayn then pulls him by the arm to shower off. The closeness and steam almost get them both worked up again, but they’re both so exhausted that all they can do is lather up and rinse off with soft strokes and lazy kisses. 

Liam gives Zayn a clean pair of sweats and they both settle into the couch again. Zayn waits as Liam makes them both a cup of tea and snuggles up into him when he returns to his side. They sit like that for a while, content to watch shitty late night television and burn their tongues on chamomile tea. Just sitting. Just being. Finally able to relax in one another's presence and revel in the calm before the next storm of touring and cameras and interviews and noise. Happy to be home. Happy to be with each other, and deep down Zayn knows home and Liam are one in the same.

**Author's Note:**

> KC, my comma savior :))


End file.
